Winds of Autumn
by Shirahoshi
Summary: Pre-Thor, spin off of Midsummer's dream, but doesn't require reading that one. Thor is gone, nobody knows where. It has been three weeks; Sif and the Warriors Three are growing desperate as the searching parties appear to be making futile attempts at finding him. They clutch the last straw of hope they have - Loki.


Loki had been drifting away from them for years now, slowly, but surely.

They didn't even notice it at first. They simply thought it to be all part of the growing up process.

But when the first real fight happened between him and Thor, from which he had walked away with a broken nose and the older prince with a gash on his forehead, suddenly everything changed.

He didn't come to the training sessions anymore.

He didn't participate in feasts and balls any longer that was expected of him as a prince of the realm.

He didn't join their quests and explorations, claiming them to be a waste of his time and annoyance besides.

Most naturally Volstagg and Fandrall took offense and loudly declared that he was just unnecessary trouble either way, and was only allowed to come along in the first place because he stood above them in authority.

Due to this, Sif suddenly found herself the "reasonable one" in the group with the most common sense, while Loki kept closing himself in the library, dark circles appearing under his eyes as a result of staying up long into the night.

She didn't notice it back then, either. She had her own problems, like bringing herself, Thor and the "Warriors Three" back to Asgard alive. Also, as a woman whose primary talent was with swords, she didn't have an easy time with fitting into a society where men were supposed to fight and the women raising the children. Her mother had already disowned her, which resulted in a quarrel with her father, who told her she may go wherever she wishes, but Sif will stay. Fuming, but nowhere else to go her mother stayed, but never spoke a word to her daughter anymore, promptly turning away her head whenever Sif entered into the room she happened to be in.

Surely a horse of Midgard and a goose of Vanaheim spoke to each other more then they did.

And then Thor disappeared.

Nobody knew what happened, not even the guards who were supposed to be on patrol at the corridors where his rooms were to be found. The first searching party left that afternoon after a brief investigation and arrived a week later with no results.

"They found nothing," said Volstagg, "Nothing. It appears as if he was simply magicked away to someplace else."

"Magicked, you say?" asked Sif, thoughtful.

"Yes. There is no sign of intrusion, nor fighting. And the door was locked."

"The pretty maiden disappeared as well," said Fandrall. At the others' confused looks he added, "The one Thor left with the night before."

"Trust him to remember something like that and not tell a word about it to anybody."

"What? I always remember a pleasant face. Surely you do not mean to say that such an innocent being as she is could be behind the disappearance of our prince?"

That afternoon Sif seeked out the second prince who acted like he wasn't living in Asgard at all, as if mystery around who or what took his brother and where he could be now didn't even concern him.

First, she checked in his room, but the bad looked as if none had slept in it the night before. The shieldmaiden finally found him int the library, bending over a thick book with apparently no pictures, his mouth moving slightly, the green eyes watching carefully the weakly flickering light in the jar on his right as it turned into a miniature of a whirlwind, while his left hand was clutching a small sack hanging on a thin thread around his neck.

"Loki."

The sorcerer jumped slightly in his seat, as if waking from a dream. It took a moment before he could focus on the woman standing before him.

"Lady Sif. What brought you here?" Sif leaned forward, trying to be as menacing as she could.

"You know that very well."

The edge of Loki's lips twitched as he carefully closed the ancient book, after he marked which page he was on.

Apparently the days when she could scare him into doing anything were gone as well.

"To be honest; I haven't the faintest idea."

"Don't play the fool. I'm here because of Thor."

Sif could've sworn she saw something darkening in the Trickster's eyes for a moment, but when he spoke his voice was as even as ever.

"What of him? He disappeared, that's all. I'm actually surprised it didn't happen sooner. The All-Father has searching parties after him, who'll find their noble prince passed out on the floor of some tavern or another, and all will be well. Now, if you'll excuse me..."

His eyes filled with terror for a moment, his hand wandering back to the little sack, as Sif yanked the book away from him, without any regards towards its age. She let herself a moment to savour his expression, before talking again.

"Except, they won't. It has been three weeks now, and no sign of him yet. And when the people learn that when the crown prince disappeared all his brother did was sitting in a library practicing tricks..."

"What would you have me do?" the black-haired man snapped, "It is unlikely I'd succeed where the All-Father's best failed."

"And wouldn't it be nice if you _did_?" she said, "That you managed to do what the greatest sorcerers of the realm didn't?"

Loki gave her a look which was clearly filled with temptation to prove his worth in his father's eyes, so she went on.

"Help us, Loki. We need you. Help us. That's all I ask."

"It's not a little thing you ask of me."

"No. But we'll owe you a favour." He seemed to consider that for a moment, then leaned his fingers against each other.

"Fine. What do you want me to do?"

* * *

Thor's room was dark as the curtains had been drawn over the windows. Loki followed Sif and the warriors into the room.

His silence and the expression - rather the lack of it - gave the shieldmaiden goosebumps.

"So?" Fandrall asked his tone urgent.

"Give me a moment."

The prince walked around the room, drawing a glowing hand over certain furnitures and devices. Suddenly he stopped in his tracks, the hand hovering in front of the mirror, which seemed to have a faint light to itself as well.

"What is it?"

Loki smiled softly.

"If it was only Odin's sorcerers and not Odin himself who inspected this room, one cannot wonder why all the searching parties failed at their task."

Volstagg frowned.

"What do you mean?"

"Transportation spell. From Midgard, no other place."

"Midgard? But..."

"No sorcerers live there, for the entire realm is without magic. Commonly believed but falsely. Actually, it's very alive with it, but it's hidden, however even if somebody knows about it, it's rarely practiced outside the realm, even less learnt about, for it's thought to be crude and underdeveloped by many. I found it to be rather handy for the same reasons, though. It needs one's imagination more than precise spellwork. Dangerous, but efficient."

"Fantastic. Can you find Thor with it or not?"

"I do. I can reboot the spell, however it was designed for two. One less or one more, and it will not work."

"I'll go," volunteered the blonde warrior quickly. Loki shook his head.

"No you won't. It requires a sorcerer to handle the spell. And he says he doesn't want you along on a mission which might require subtlety, which he finds you to be in lack of," he let himself enjoy Fandrall's enraged expression for a moment before turning to the shieldmaiden. "Lady Sif. Are you prepared?"

"I've got my sword and shield. I'd say I am."

"Good. Hold onto my arm. We must go now, or the path will be forever lost to us along with Thor."

"What..." she started asking as he grabbed her; the mirror shone now blinding blue and the warriors yelled as they staggered backwards, their hands lifted to protect their eyes, but Loki lunged towards the light, dragging Sif after him.

It was a sensation she never experienced before. She wasn't cold, yet not warm; her nose smelled something sweet like cakes with the rot of corpses and the metallic scent of blood; and it was so silent that it sang in her ears.

Then, it all ended suddenly and she was forced to bend forward as the wind was knocked out of her.

"What... Was.. That?"

"That," coughed Loki, who apparently was just as affected as she was, the hand with which she wasn't clutching Sif holding onto the sack, "Was two magical signatures interacting and one being rather uncooperative."

"Odin's beard," the woman murmured, leaning against the cold wall, fighting down the nausea she felt, "Where are we?"

"I'm just as clueless as you are."

"You left Asgard without knowing what our destination is? That's a first."

"Anything to escape your wrath," he replied, opening the door. "After you."

"What a gentleman," she said sarcastically. Loki lifted an eyebrow but did not answer.

* * *

The stone walls were glistening in the light of Loki's conjured up transportable fire, the air so heavy with water vapour that it was almost hard to breathe.

"Not exactly a friendly place," Sif commented as they passed another decaying head, most of it already rot away into nothing, the disgustingly sweet smell lingering in the air, ever present.

"I doubt it was meant to be."

He grabbed Sif's shoulder and pulled her into a dark side-tunnel, the flame on his palm puffing out of existence. Before she could complain, he pressed a finger to his lips, then peered out into the main tunnel.

Now the shieldmaiden could hear it, too. A group of twenty women, she decided from the chattering.

"Ladies," one shouted, clearly annoyed. "I think we will see who is the victor by the end of the night."

"You're no fun, Brella."

"Do you think there'll be fresh meat?"

"I haven't heard about any, yet. If so, they must be quick to sign up."

"Who'd be an idiot to send her slave against Darla and her Thunderer, if they're not in the Game yet? It's not a fair fight anymore, merely a bloodbath."

The group had finally passed the place where the Asgardians were hiding.

"What," Sif asked, "Was that?"

Loki turned back to her, grinning like the skulls on the wall.

"That was an explanation. And the way to get Thor back."

Sif was not really sure of Loki's plan. Scratch that. It was the equal of suicide.

Yes, she liked to live her life on the edge, but not _this _close to the edge. Not like she had any better ideas, but there were so many thing that could go wrong.

"Faster," she growled, trying to hide her anxiety as she yanked on Loki's chain. He was currently sporting poison green eyes instead of his usual blue-ish green ones, fuller lips, auburn hair and a burn mark on his left cheek. Of course, it had been a relatively long fight who should play the warrior and who the owner; but as another group passed them it became clear that the Games were created for the sadistic pleasures of women and all the slaves forced to fight were males.

Her appearance had changed, too, to others. The mole under her eye disappeared, her hair was even longer and honey coloured. She appeared to others smaller than she actually was, as well, which led to a few problems when people they asked for directions talked to her chest.

The spell was tied to the sack Loki was carrying in his neck, now entrusted to Sif to keep it safe.

They finally found their destination, much to their relief; less to the ne who was apparently responsible for signing up the new competitors as she appeared to be about to go.

"I want to enlist him," Sif said as she gave the chain another jerk, pulling the sorcerer next to herself.

"That one?" the crone asked, measuring Loki from head to toe, "He's a scrawny thing." She shrugged, "Whatever. Not my business."

After the prince was equipped with a purple bracelet, sign of a long distance fighter, he was ushered towards a door with bars and Sif to the one opposite it, though this one was marvelously carved.

The arena was huge, slightly below the terrace, surrounded by water, which, Sif guessed was not exactly what it seemed to be. Above numbers shone from one to fifty one, the numbers three and twenty-nine glowing red while the others were green.

Sif leaned forwards as two men appeared in the arena.

* * *

Even deeper into the earth, it was dimly lit and cold.

Not like Loki was bothered by it - unlike Thor, it never bothered him when it grew a bit chillier.

The guards - two women - roughly shoved him into an already inhabited cell and made to leave.

"Thanks," he spat at the duo, "It was a pleasure."

The taller one turned back without a word and pressed a button on her... Stick.

Electricity ran through his body, leaving him breathless for a moment.

He inspected the bracelet from closer. What else could have been the origin of the energy? He frowned.

It was a nuisance, even if only a little one to somebody like him.

Hopefully.

Outside the crowd roared; probably somebody had been finished off in a rather gruesome way.

"You," snapped a rough voice somewhat further below. "On your feet."

Loki gaped as he recognised the shadow that exited the cell. Thor.

The trio passed his cell quickly, the guards poking the Asgardian with their metal sticks mercilessly.

"I pity his opponent," croaked a voice behind him. The sorcerer turned to the green skinned stranger.

"Why?"

"He kills them all, if the jury does not stop him in time. That's what I was told," he shrugged, "As things stand, you'll be dead by morning as well."

"And why would that be?"

"Because you fright from the distance. And those bastards up there have a liking to put opposite styles together."

Loki picked on his bracelet.

"I have a question. Did you ever try to take this off?"

* * *

Sif's breath caught in her throat as Thor tore the elf's head from her shoulders, desperately trying to keep an impassive face. Number twenty-nine flared purple then vanished. Then, Thor was taken away.

The next pair knocked each other mutually unconscious, and the third was more of a bloodbath than a fair fight as the huge spider-like monstrosity ripped the half-kappa apart. Sif gritted her teeth. That one wasn't even a fighter; more like a court fool who wasn't found to be amusing anymore.

Then Loki appeared on the stage, much to the delight of the crowd who were more than happy to see some fresh meat.

His opponent was a three meters tall stone golemn.

Sif gripped the sack tightly, feeling something strangely circle-shaped inside. She knew that with his magic the creature was no challenge to him, but now it was necessary to keep it a secret.

Loki was switching a knife in his hands, watching his opponent carefully, jumping out of the way when it charged. He immediately twisted around himself in the air, and his hand shot out like a snake.

The crowd yelled in disdain as the golemn crumpled but Sif breathed in deeply in relief.

Their eyes met.

_You underestimate me, _his seemed to say.

After that most fights were not exactly interesting, with some of them ending in death here and there. Victors were called back as well, but only them; from the matches which couldn't be decided nobody appeared again.

Loki had been called back three times, once against a fire giant, a serpent and some wooden creature the shieldmaiden didn't recognise. Thor four times.

Then, as the last match of the night, the number one and fifty-one were called.

* * *

It was pathetic, really. The stone golemn was one thing, but the serpent was starved and already half-dead. The fire giant had been closed away from the sun and fresh air for so long that its flames were all, but extinguished.

The tree-husband was not even a challenge.

But his cellmate never returned after his second fight.

"You," growled the guard, the staff sparkled in her hand. "Up."

He acted without speaking, rubbing the deactivated bracelet on his wrist.

Pathetic. They didn't even notice when he replaced the spell with one similar, but one of his own.

The incredibly strong lights always came as a shock.

The crowd whistled and clapped.

Then he saw why.

Across him stood Thor, his face not betraying any emotions.

Something was off. Thor did not look like this before a fight.

When the blonde charged he knew why. The symbol, even if he never used it, was more than familiar to him.

He spun aside, his knife barely missing it barely with an inch. Damn.

They circled around each other.

He might have been under a spell, but his moves were much the same. He favoured his left leg at jumping; hated to show his back; and was more prone to use swings than hooks.

Thor never liked making more than three circles; after finishing the third he went low to catch the opponent to catch his opponent just under his middle, to knock them out of balance.

The crown prince slammed into him like a charging rhino of Midgard. Loki turned his left foot at the last moment, using Thor's momentum, taking both of them to the ground.

It took only a moment to ruin the otherwise perfect symbol. Thor trembled, his eyes jumping around frantically for a moment.

"Who..."  
Loki's fist connected with Thor's face and the nose mad a satisfying cracking sound.

"Thor!" he hissed, spying Sif hurrying towards them across the crowd, shoving people aside, "Do as if you'd hit me!"

He obliged without a question, much to Loki's relief. The sorcerer caught the hammer-wielder's armguard and it ceased functioning with a buzz. Somebody screamed as she was tossed into the acid by Sif as the shieldmaiden jumped down next to them.

She grabbed his outstretched arm and with a flash of green they were gone.

What a luck, Loki thought, that sorcerers were accepted amongst the fighters as well.

* * *

"Reckless and idiotic!" roared Odin. "I wake and my second son and a sworn shield of the Maidens are gone! Fools!"

The king continued hollering for another good hour or so, before his wrath was somewhat soothed by the fact that Frigga reminded him that the two did manage to save Thor.

"What I don't understand is, that how did they not notice anything?"

"They were too sure of themselves," Loki said as they passed the guards of the medical wing. "From what I've gathered, it must have been going on for years now, in the utmost secret. Where they took the wrong turn was when they allowed a participant to enlist the prince of Asgard."

"Or perhapst they didn't even know it's him."

"Unlikely, but possible."

"You think too highly of yourself and Thor."

"There is no such thing as thinking too highly of me," said a cheerful voice behind them. Loki snorted.

"Here I was coming to visit an unconscious oaf who appears to be more than well."

"No, no, I was unconscious until an hour ago, really. But I got hungry."

"Let us be going then." He turned to Sif with a hand out towards her. "But first, I believe you have something of mine."

"Oh, yes." The string of the small sack was torn when she jumped, but it was otherwise unharmed.

"Thank you," Loki said, his voice growing soft.

She couldn't pass it to tease him.

"Is that sentiment in your eyes?"

"No."

"That was definitely sentiment in your eyes. Oooh, is little Loki in love? Who is the lucky one?"

"No one."

"So speaks the one renowned for his lies."

"Since when do you concern yourself with my love life?"

"I was born a woman. I thought it is customary to do so."

"You, a woman?" You've fooled me well, Sif."

"Where is the lady? Contrary to your belief, I am one."

"I've deemed you unworthy of the title "lady". More like a lord. What kind of lady breaks bones on daily basis and has several battle scars?"

"The shieldmaiden kind!"

"Maiden, eh?" And I am the once called liar... Ow!"

He massaged his arm where Sif punched it.

"You are one evil, forked-tongued, slimy _liar _of a sorcerer," she spat.

"And you are one agressive, ill-tempered, she-man of a warrior!"

"What? I'm not ill-tempered!"

"My bad, am I mistaken again? I must have mistook you for another Sif."

Thor laughed.

* * *

**And what a luck that the place wasn't shielded against transportation spells. Mostly because if individual wouldn't be Loki, it would mean death to them. But as we know, Loki doesn't play by the rules.**


End file.
